


Creep

by ThePenultimateAvenger



Category: Silent Hill
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 09:26:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/429449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePenultimateAvenger/pseuds/ThePenultimateAvenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walter can't continue the Sacraments because of feelings for Henry, and Henry is confused as to why everything's back to normal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Creep

**Author's Note:**

> Whoa man, a Silent Hill fanfiction! I love Silent Hill: The Room to death and I'm pretty sure it's my favorite SH game. This was just a quick oneshot I wrote a while back, and I hope you enjoy it! :)

Walter Sullivan never thought he'd find himself walking away from the 21 Sacraments, especially if he was only one away from completion. Henry Townshend… he was such a strange man. The Receiver of Wisdom and the one who figured out all of Walter's tricks. Why was it that Walter couldn't find it in himself to kill the man? He'd killed plenty of people before, each without mercy or a hint of remorse. But Henry was different somehow, and no matter how hard Walter tried to figure it out, he couldn't put his finger on it. But he was determined to figure it out.

Henry was now free to leave his apartment, which made Walter-dare he say it-jealous. Henry could just forget about him, and that was the last thing he wanted. He didn't want to be forgotten, and he'd do anything to remain in Henry's mind. He wondered who Henry would go to see, anyway. Eileen was dead, along with Richard Braintree, although Henry didn't seem to care for him too much. He briefly wondered if Henry had a girlfriend, but banished the thought from his mind immediately. Why did he even care? He should have simply killed Townshend and been on his way, or at the very least, stopped hanging around. There was nothing there for him there, the sacraments were ruined. But every time he tried to leave, he felt a weight on his heart.

Walter had never been a particularly social man. Dahlia came to him at such a young age and convinced him that room 302 was his mother, and he'd been obsessed with reviving her ever since. The Ascension of the Holy Mother became his life and his mother became his only priority. He got perfect marks in school, and went on to medical school in order to have a perfect knowledge of the human anatomy. He never dated and his social life was nonexistent.

When it came to people, he just didn't understand sometimes. And now? He simply couldn't kill Henry. The man made him feel so… strange, a way he'd never felt before. He couldn't even explain it, as there were no words. His heart beat faster when he saw the man and he anticipated the times when they spoke. Whatever Henry was doing to him, he was going to figure it out. His mother would just have to wait.

* * *

Henry woke up in his bed, just like he had for the past… how many days had it been? He'd lost count. It was the same thing, over and over again every day; wake up and face a different nightmare. Watch someone get killed. Get attacked by unimaginable creatures. Every fucking day. He grimaced as he stood up, sore from everything he'd been through and all the beatings he'd taken. It was a miracle he was still alive, really. He walked into the living room and was surprised to find no hauntings. The radio wasn't blaring static and his walls were clean. The only proof that there ever had been ghosts was the holy candles, now burnt out. He looked to his left and his jaw nearly hit the floor. The door was chain-free! He walked forward cautiously, sure it was a trick, but when he turned the knob, it opened no problem. "What…the hell?" He muttered. There were no bloody handprints on the wall either. Everything seemed normal…well, except for the bright yellow caution tape over Eileen's doorway. That was worrisome, but Henry shrugged off the feeling. After all, she'd been attacked, so surely they were doing an investigation. She  _definitely_ wasn't dead.

He walked back into his room and looked around again. He opened the laundry room, expecting the carpet to be stained with blood, but there was no blood to be seen. The only things on the floor were the plates he'd found in the strange worlds. There was no sign of a hole, though. Just the wall. Leaving the laundry room, he made his way to the bathroom, sure that everything would be in disarray. The tub would be full of blood and the mirror would be shattered, just as it had been the day before. But… it wasn't. It was just his bathroom. Everything was clean and in near perfect condition, besides the leaky faucet.

Okay, Henry was confused. He had evidence that he had visited the nightmare worlds- his body ached and there were about a thousand holy candles on the floor of his apartment. The plates were still there, and it had all been so realistic. It definitely hadn't been a dream, but…what was going on? Why did Walter just let him go? He was the 21st sacrament, after all, and the Ascension of the Holy Mother couldn't be completed without him. Walter wouldn't just give up, he'd gone through too much.

Henry shook his head, sighing in frustration. In this possibly-temporary reprieve from danger, he was going to do the best thing he could think of: take a hot shower. He'd been through so much and he felt filthy and bloody. He began unbuttoning his shirt and turned on the water, waiting for it to warm up. As he stepped in, he smiled to himself. He couldn't remember the last time he'd taken a shower and he could already feel his sore muscles relaxing a little bit. The filth and grime was slowly being washed down the drain, and Henry briefly wondered it Walter really had succeeded in killing him and he'd gone to heaven.

He squeezed some shampoo into his hands and massaged it into his hair, closing his eyes. Suddenly, he heard breathing behind him and turned swiftly. Unfortunately, he turned too fast and slipped, hitting his head against the wall. It was far from the worst injury he'd ever had, though, but the incident left him feeling a little nervous. He quickly wrote off the breathing as paranoia and washed the shampoo out of his hair, but quickly got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He went across the hallway to his room, where he pulled on some clean clothes.

Walking into the kitchen, he realized that there was absolutely no food in his fridge, and whatever food was in his cupboards had gone bad. What was worse was the fact that he was hungry. Super hungry. Tracking down his wallet, he decided that he'd go shopping later, but for now, he was just going to go out and eat. Twenty minutes later, he was sitting down at a small deli chowing down on a turkey sandwich and a sprite. The deli was slightly busy, and needless to say, Henry felt out of place. Every so often, he'd look over his shoulder to make sure there were no monsters, but there were never any there. Henry had been an observer to this reality for days, but now he was part of it, and he could hardly believe it. It was surreal. All around him, people were talking and laughing, flowing through life. Henry felt worried, though. Walter had just disappeared, leaving the job unfinished. Who knew when he'd return to kill Henry?

He took a sip of sprite, nearly choking when he thought he saw a familiar head of blonde hair and a blue coat leaving the deli. It was just his imagination again, though, and he ran a hand through his still-damp hair. Was he losing his mind? Reality felt distant and he felt like he was in a dream, and he'd wake up in the nightmare reality again. But it was just exhaustion, he knew.

* * *

Walter was frustrated at himself. He shouldn't have been following Henry, he should have left. As he left the deli, he probably looked like a crazy person to the rest of the world. Fortunately, not many people still knew his face, so they couldn't recognize him, but the blood spatters on his coat would present a problem after a while, though. He hurried back to Henry's apartment, closing the door behind him when he got there. What the hell was he doing? He shook his head and took his jacket off, tossing it onto Henry's couch. He wanted a shower, just as Henry had taken earlier. Thinking of this made him want to his himself. He hadn't meant to watch Henry taking a shower. He simply wanted to see the man's reaction to normality.

When Walter finished with his shower, he felt better than he had in years. Except for the fact that he had absolutely nowhere to go. The worlds he'd created were falling apart because his mind was so chaotic and there was nowhere left for him to go besides Henry's apartment. He went to Henry's room and sighed. He put on some of the man's clothes, even though they were a bit too small, and lay down on the bed. How long had it been since he'd actually slept well? He couldn't remember and ended up falling asleep quickly.

* * *

Henry returned home, and set a small bag of groceries on the counter of his kitchen. It wasn't much, but for now it was fine. A carton of orange juice, some milk and cereal, lunch meat, bread; just the basics. He was about to walk back to his room when he caught something blue in the corner of his eye. He turned and his eyes grew wide as he saw that coat. Walter's coat. That bastard's coat was just laying there on his couch! He grabbed it and shook his head. The thing was filthy, covered in blood, grime, and god knows what else. He considered what to do with it for a few moments. He could throw it away, which was probably the best idea. Get rid of the thing and forget about it. But… he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, he was going to wash it with his clothes. He walked down the hallway to his room, mind going blank when he saw a blonde laying in his bed. Wearing in his clothes. No no no no no, this was not acceptable.

Henry dropped the jacket and walked forward, fully intending to wake the man up harshly and kick him out, but he stopped. He could actually see Walter's side of the story. He's been through so much and was raised from birth to be a sadistic freak. As clichéd as it sounded, it wasn't his fault. Henry sat at the foot of the bed and looked at Walter's sleeping form. Without blood everywhere, the man seemed almost friendly. He was attractive, as we- wait, what? Henry wanted to slap himself for thinking that he'd known he was bisexual since high school, but this was a mass murderer who thought room 302 was his mother! What was he thinking?

He sighed, reaching a hand out and moving a strand of hair out of Walter's face. He'd seen almost all sides of this man. It was hard to believe that the little boy he kept running into grew up to be a serial killer. But he'd gone through so much. He'd been raised by a religious cult, after all, and it really messed with his mind. They'd taught him everything he knew, and really, he was just a kid who wanted to be with his mother. He'd just been mislead.

Henry tried to remind himself that this man was the one who'd locked him in his apartment and put him through a living hell, but he felt sorry for the man. Still, he wanted some answers, and the man didn't seem to be armed, so he shook Walter's shoulder gently. "Hey."

Walter opened his eyes groggily, but as soon as he spotted Henry, he shot up and got off the bed, standing on the other side. He seemed to be trying to come up with something to say, but he was at a loss, so Henry just put both his hands up, letting Walter know he meant no harm. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to know why you're here, Walter."

Walter seemed to ease up a little. "I… I have nowhere else to go."

Henry began slowly moving around to the other side of the bed. "Why didn't you finish the sacraments? Why didn't you kill me?"

Walter saw Henry approaching him, but made no attempt to move. His normal confidence was nowhere to be seen. "I couldn't. I… I'm not sure why."

Slowly, Henry sat Walter down next to him, careful not to anger the larger man. "What do you mean?"

Walter sighed, truly not knowing why Henry wasn't trying to kill him. "You're different. I can't kill you because the thought of doing so makes me…sad." He tried to sort out his emotions, explain what he was saying, but he was having troubles.

Henry wasn't sure how to respond, so he put a hand on Walter's shoulder. "Why me?"

"I have no clue! You're doing something to me, I know it! You make my heart beat faster and thoughts get jumbled up when I'm around you. I want to be close to you." Walter was quiet, but Henry heard every word. He knew exactly what Walter was feeling as well, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it.

After hesitating for a few moments, he stood up. "Come on, let's get some food in you." He said, waiting until Walter stood too. The two walked to the kitchen and Henry turned towards the blonde. "You can have cereal or a sandwich. Which do you want?"

"What kind of cereal is it?"

"Choco-chunk." Henry sad, grabbing the box from the cupboard. Walter nodded and Henry pulled a bowl from another cupboard. After fixing the bowl of cereal, he handed it to Walter and they both sat at the counter. Henry watched as Walter ate the cereal. The man ate it as though he'd never had anything like it before, which was probably true. After a few moments of silence, Henry sighed. "Walter, have you ever, uh, dated anyone before?"

Walter looked over at the brunette. "Huh? Not really. Why?"

Henry felt incredibly awkward. "I'm going to try and put this as simply as I can. All the reasons you gave for not being able to kill me made it seem like… well, you sounded like you're in…love with me."

Neither men spoke as Walter processed what had just been said. Love? It was true, he'd never had much practice with love. Could he really love Henry? "Lovers usually…kiss, right?" he asked slowly.

"Er…yeah."

"Then, would it be alright for me…to kiss you?"

Henry wanted to say no. There were so many reasons why it would be wrong to do so. This man was a serial killer, for starters. He'd killed at least 20 people (including himself…yeah, Henry would have to ask him about that later…). After a few tense seconds, Henry gave in. "I suppose."

Walter smiled slightly and leaned forward slightly, brushing his lips against Henry's. He'd never kissed anyone before and it felt…nice. Henry's lips were warm and a little bit chapped. He wasn't all that sure what to do, but Henry leaned further forward and twined his fingers into the blonde's hair, deepening the kiss.

At this point, reality for him was fucked. He knew very well what he was doing, but he didn't want to stop. Walter's lips felt right against his, but he still tried to resist the pull he felt. He kept telling himself to stop, but he couldn't. Not at this point.

They kissed for a few more moments, nothing too passionate, but it was a nice kiss. Finally, Henry was able to take control of his body and he pulled back. He wanted to be closer to the man, but he wouldn't let himself. It simply was NOT going to happen.

Walter bit his lip as he went back to eating his cereal. "I'm not sure how one's supposed to feel after a kiss." He stated.

"Well, if you love someone, you'll feel happier than you ever have before. You'd want to do it again and again." Henry wasn't really sure what to say, since he really didn't want the man to be in love with him. But the more he thought about it, the more he thought that it wouldn't be that bad. "How do you feel?"

"It was…nice. I wouldn't mind trying again."

Henry couldn't help but smile as he leaned forward again, capturing Walter's lips. He stood up from the stool and got closer, biting the other's lip gently. As they kissed, Walter got more experimental with what to do with his mouth and soon they were a blur of passion, mouths and teeth melding together. Eventually, they had to break apart for air and Walter smiled shyly. "Hey, Henry?"

"Hmm?"

"I think I might love you."


End file.
